


Without the Grace of God

by KallinFrost



Category: Christian Bible, Christian Bible (New Testament)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Violence, Declarations Of Love, Gabriel is a man who keeps his vows, God isn't a good guy, Human Gabriel, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Protective Gabriel, There's not much biblical canon, but Gabe tries, but both of those are for a limited time, except Jesus dies at the end, nobody here is really a good person except for Jesus, romanticizing violence, shocker there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KallinFrost/pseuds/KallinFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel had a son who was framed for attempting to kill God. God crucified him, taking his cue from the Romans on earth, and Gabriel vows that God will feel the pain he has felt watching his son's torturous end. That's when things get ugly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without the Grace of God

**Author's Note:**

> I would frankly be surprised if this didn't offend somebody. But there is Jesus/Lucifer fanfic on here, so...  
> Anyway, throw out the window most of what the bible actually says, add a dash of gay, and stir vigorously with angst.  
> This wasn't beta'd. So if you spot a spelling/grammar mistake, tell me.

I killed my first angel just after the end of the Angel Conflicts, just in time to have a hell to be damned to. But I didn't fall, as had become the usual punishment for the offense. Not right away. Even God admitted that my cause was just, defending my son from angels who were still sore over the Angel Wars. His mother had fallen, and he had stayed with me... he still felt that his place was in heaven. Others disagreed.

The next time... the next time I was defending him from all sides. "An assassination attempt cannot be overlooked Gabriel." Michael was an idiot. My son never would have attempted something against God, against someone he knew he couldn't defeat. This was his doing. God had been in a blinding rage for weeks, over what I did not know, but he chose the one thing that no one but me would blame him for to destroy... my only child. God's word was law, if he said my son tried to put a dagger in his back, then to everyone else, he did.

I watched, screaming, as my son was crucified as was so popular below with the Romans, his legs broken and mangled with angel fire and nails of the same were pushed through his flesh. He screamed for me, looked at me and begged me to help him, to save him, and I tried. I tried so hard for him. And he was taken all the same. By the time I broke free of Michael, he was gone... but God informed me if I attempted to remove his body, I would be forced to watch it all again. I wept at the feet of my broken son, and stricken with something beyond grief, drove a knife through the heart of God himself. I swore to him, I swore, that his boy would die as mine had. Broken, beaten, and in pain as someone they trusted destroyed them. God threw me to the pit, but my anger was a stronger force than his. I did not fall... I regained humanity. I stopped on earth instead of feeling the burning sulphur of Hell. He would pay.

I found myself in Jerusalem. Hot, dry, and angry... it fit me well. And there I waited. And soon the son of God stepped through the gates, modestly himself but his people triumphant, a great uproar about him. I approached him when his followers celebrated his personage, but ignored the man.

We had met before. I was sent by God to tell him, only a child, he was the son of god... dark haired and dark skinned, he was a man now. Strong, modest, faithful and sweet. I had never wanted to destroy something so close to perfection. It gave me pause, shocked at the remorse. God had felt no pain killing my child, but it hurt me to kill his.

"Gabriel." He murmured when I caught up with him alone. "I have seen you in dreams. I know why you are here." He said, speaking the language of the land. "I am... so sorry." He said softly. "Liam was pure. He deserved none of this. You deserve none of this." He was moved to tears, always feeling empathy for others, always feeling sorry for those who had a lesser lot than himself. For my son.

"I know why you are here. I do." He murmured. "And I promise, you'll have your way. Just... not yet. Stay for a while. Until my work is done. I beg of you." He said, and I wrapped my fingers around his throat, pushing him against the wall of some decrepit alley.

"Did my son get to finish his work? Did he get to say his goodbyes?" I demanded, and he touched my hand on his throat so gently, as I were the one about to break instead of him.

"No, he did not. But you are a better person than that. You are a good person, sweet and righteous and kind, and the wrongs against you have brought you to this. And that is father's fault."

"How do you know? He gives you your visions!!" I snapped.

"He gave me this gift, this curse, but he controls not what I see. I see more than he wishes and less than I do." He murmured. My grip finally loosened, and he gasped for air, but did not break our locked eyes.

"Son of god. I am sorry." I murmured. "But I will wait as you ask." I agreed finally. "I will allow you some time. But do not make me suspect you are drawing it out." I warned.

"I dare not." He whispered, leaning forward and touching our foreheads together, his hand clasping the back of my neck. "Stay a while, what I preach is far different from what he does. Listen. When I  finish, you will crucify me under the guise of a Roman. You will feel guilt, Gabriel, but do not. I forgive you. I forgive you everything." He promised. "Come with me." He took my hand, and I let him draw me away, following because I was lost and I wanted to be led. Better by someone like him than his father. “I’m proud of you. You did all you could. You’ll do all you can.”

“Hush, seer.” I said, with a pained smile, and the smile he gave me was like the sun.

“That’s not from my visions, Gabe. That’s from knowing you.” He said, voice good humored, and I smiled a little. As if he really knew me.

He led me to where his inner circle gathered, separate and more subdued, but still jovial. "Everyone, this is Gabriel." He said, and they all looked at me with awe.

"The angel?" They asked, and I smiled.

"I was once. Now no more than a man." I said simply, and they looked confused, except for one.

"God has sent you in mortal form to protect our savior!" He said, and I said nothing, but they seemed content with that answer. I was accepted with them, and Christ pulled me to his bedroom.

"Here they will bother neither of us." He promised, and I nodded. He crawled into bed, an early sleeper, and gestured for me to join him. I did, curling myself around him protectively. No one would kill him but me.

I slept silently in his bed that night, but the next when he bedded down, he curled up with his head on my chest, intimate in a way I was unaccustomed. "Tell me a tale of times past, Gabriel. Tell me of the things no mortal or angel may speak of. Tell me of the angels who are now demons." He said softly.

"You wish to know of demons?" I asked, and he smiled.

"Yes. Tell me of the first. Your brother." He murmured.

"He was... radiant. All who looked upon him loved him, knew his beauty held the will of god. I came into being when he was but young, Michael having stolen him from God's bosom, rightfully I suspect. He had pale skin, paler even than mine," which was an accomplishment, "and curly blond locks like spun gold. He was as fierce as radiant, fighting and raging against injustice like a man possessed. He was so jealous of the humans... he hated that we were forced into subordination when you could choose your gods. God's wrath was mighty on the day he cast Lucifer down to a lake of flaming sulphur. Soon followed his lover, an angel whose name would mean nothing to you, and his son, and then more and more rebelled. To us, mere hours. To Lucifer in hell? A millenia of silent, dark torment until he learned to shape the hell to which he was imprisoned, until he could bend it and rule over it. Time slows in Hell. And then the true war began when he was able to escape it." I said.

"There was so much death... I loved all my brothers and sisters equally, so much so they had to chain me away from the battles to keep from ruining battle plans by wailing behind them to stop. So many were lost." I whispered.

"You are a good man, Gabriel. A good angel, even. Your only fault is that you love so deeply it cuts you down to the soul." He said softly. He soon slept, but I lay awake for a long while after, haunted by memories of screams and angel fire.

Two months later, sixty-one stories later, one each night at his request, and he did not bed at his usual hour. He sat awake, looking at a map, for such long a time, so troubled that he was wearing wrinkles into his beautiful brow, that I went to bed before him.

I woke in the nighttime early hours of the next day, The son of God my nemesis above me, his thighs straddling my hips and his face a hair's breadth from mine, so close our breath mingled and his lips brushed mine as he spoke in a whisper that I could hardly hear despite the closeness.

"Why, Gabriel? Why do people pray for their own selfishness? Why does no one ever pray for the ones who need it most? Why does no one ever pray for Lucifer, the one sinner who needed it most? Why does no one pray for you?" He said, and I sat up slowly, him in my lap and barely moving away as I moved instead to sit cross legged beneath him. His legs spread to keep us pressed chest to chest, his knees curling behind my hips as if to pull me in closer, deeper, over my head to drown me in his words and his eyes, a manic gleam to them like he was frantic and nervous and barely containing his fanatics.

"Would you pray for me, son of god?" I asked softly. He nodded.

"Yes." His voice was strangely hoarse. Mine joined him in that.

"Do not pray for me. You are the only one to whom I plead for forgiveness. I will not pray for forgiveness of my sins, only that you offer me redemption in your heart. You are the one pure thing left in this, and I will be the one to destroy you." I whispered, my hand cupping his jaw and my thumb tracing the delicate curve of his throat.

"You do as you must do." He pressed impossibly closer. "I forgive you. I would forgive you anything. Your sins are nothing to me, in my heart and my eyes you shall be redeemed." He whispered.

"I fear that in your destruction I will ensure my own." I whispered.

"You will not. Because you know that of all things I could not bear, it would be to become your downfall. I love you, Gabriel. Tell me you will not allow me to be the bane of you." He said.

"You will be my strength, instead of my weakness. I will remember you when I am darkest." I said softly.

"You shall be mine too, Gabriel. I would be killed at your hand over any other. Yours is the hand that will love me, purely, even when it drives iron through me, even when it breaks my bones and rends my flesh. I can think of nothing better." He said softly, and kissed me like if he touched me harshly I may shatter. I wasn't sure if he was wrong.

Four months later, he finally told me that he was ready. I frowned. "There is still much that you could do." I said, and he smiled.

"Nothing necessary. I must go now. I Saw it." He said, and I nodded, kissing his forehead. Three weeks later, he lay on the cross, dying in agony, and I kissed his feet, closing my eyes.

"Remember, Gabe. I... forgive... you." It was hard for him to speak, but he did. To help me heal. That was the last time I felt peace from all things holy.

God himself came down with a battalion of angels once he realized what had happened. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" He was screaming, over and over, and I sneered as he got in my face.

"I kept my vow." I hissed, and he snarled.

"Guards, take him away!! Kill him, strip him of his mortal body, bring his soul back to Heaven. He can bear the stigma of his peers for eternity." He snarled. They grabbed me around the arms.

"Gladly. I would rather die truly than suffer your love, you who killed the light if my life, my son." I growled. "Your own son said Liam was innocent!!" I snarled, and that gave the angels holding me pause, gave them doubt, but God ignored it, and they dragged me away all the same.

“I will have my revenge upon you, God, even if I have to wait an eternity for it. I will end you for your sins against those who called you family!” I screamed as I was dragged off, and he just gave me a snide triumphant look. He’d won for now, at least in his mind.

My death was not quick. I was not the only one who was fond of God’s son, and they took his death out on me. I took it silently. I would never scream for these delusioned half-men again. And when I died, I was taken to my home, my weapons confiscated, and I was informed that I was never to leave without an escort again. I sneered. All I had to do was wait. Someday I’d get out of this prison. Someday, I’d have my revenge. 

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself sad writing whatever this thing is, but I hope you liked it anyway. If so, comments feed the author. :)


End file.
